Mrs. Maverick

What we're made of

This post is part of a series of reflections called Project Less is More. This project chronicles (very irregularly) a financially stretching time in our family's life. Click here to start at the beginning. 

So, in the last five minutes I debated taking a nap because there are two sleeping babies in the house right now. I also debated starting a caffeine habit with an inaugural cup of espresso. I went to the Lazy Susan, spun it around to the instant espresso powder (which, up until this point, has only been used to add a little kick to the occasional batch of brownies), pulled the little jar out and stared at it for a few seconds. I put it back because, well, it's instant espresso powder. Who wants to say that they became addicted to caffeine on the crumbly, dehydrated, inferior granules of anything that has "instant" in its name? Despite these desperate times (sleep deprivation, the utterly languid mood of this household because this winter seems never, ever ending and has transformed us all into hibernating bears), I opted not to partake. 

Instead I popped some dark chocolate and almonds and decided to type away. 

...

We sold our second car one week after Charles was born. It was a dreary, rainy day. Not the kind of day you would expect people to go used car shopping. While I was cozy and cooped up in the living room, Shawn was playing car salesman in the garage beneath us. Four people visited and the last person, a handsome 40-something triathlete originally from England, ended up purchasing the car for his daughter--a newly minted driver apparently. He seemed a decent chap from what I could tell from our two minute conversation, so I felt good about selling the car to him. I also felt really good about selling the car, period. A burden lifted and I felt physically light. Shawn deposited the $8750 cash and I immediately paid off some debt and socked the rest into our bank account. Wish I could say it was for a rainy day...but the small cushion was necessary to carry us through the rest of the month. 

How candid should I be when it comes to the numbers? I thought about just stating the cold, hard dollar amounts, but I chickened out. So, another approach:

- In the past 1.5 years our income has decreased by 50%, when Eleanor was first born I went down to work part time so our income took a -25% hit and in the past 2 months (since Charles arrived) our income decreased by another 25%. 

- We have doubled the size of our family in that time. 

- Our students loans came due. Two Bachelor's and one Master's later and....yikes. 

To round out the story:

- I'm not working right now because I was a young, beginning teacher at a beginning salary which did not justify the cost of quality child care and I did not want to rely entirely on my parents to take care of our children. They have a business of their own and are quite busy. Plus I wanted to be with my babies for a little bit. I am going to be reevaluating my job situation in the coming months as Charles gets older and we look ahead to the summer and next school year. 

- We are looking to rent our place out and downsize for a period of time. Let's call this the next big move in our financial triage plan. Rent out our place by May, move somewhere more affordable for a year or so until we can regulate cash flow. In the meantime, Shawn will put his new CPA certification and MBA (so proud of him!) to work getting the promotions he deserves and we need. 

...

I do most of my driving/errand running in the evenings now when Shawn gets home from work and the kiddos are in bed. (Ah, the one car life.) Driving has always been one of my great releases. Traveling through space, listening to music, focusing on what is directly in front of me while also thinking about the universe at large. I do some of my grandest--as in ambitious but not necessarily good--thinking in the car. But I have had moments of extreme clarity while driving; past, present and future all come together and make sense in a single moment. 

Refined by fire is a biblical phrase that comes to mind when I consider this chapter. I am constantly being tested. How will I respond when I learn that the IRS mistakenly sends us a bill for $4000 in back taxes from 2011 in the midst of this mess? Or when Sallie Mae tells me that they have yet to process our several-month-old request to lower our monthly student loan payment? Will I flip? Will I blow up at those I love? Will I shake my fist at the sky? 

Thankfully, no. I mean, not most of the time. I mean, God has been so faithful to save me from myself during this time. The reason is this: I am not made of me, I am made of Him. Bought, covered, loved, inhabited by Jesus. And while my human and gut reactions are often to crumple into a woeful pile, I am reminded of all that He endured on my behalf and how I can bank my life on the fact that these trials are momentary and light. Do they feel light? Indeed not. But I know that they are. And that's that for now. 

I know, I know. You're welcome for writing an unrelated introduction about espresso powder and not sledgehammers. A little levity at the beginning in exchange for overall brevity. Deal? Deal.  

Cares aside on the carousel

Shawn took these wonderful pictures of me and Eleanor. 

 

Scenes from our kitchen: roasted roots

The changing afternoon light is the first signal to me that spring is near. About this time of year it gets brighter, seems to weigh a little less, drawing me out of a literal and figurative dim, cozy place. There are several weeks during which this light works on me, invigorating my senses, pumping me up and readying me to venture outside regularly once again. My appetite for green things and fruit explodes right about now. I assume it is my body's way of willing the earth to produce above-ground vegetation because, well, enough with the turnips and sweet potatoes already. Ramps, fiddle heads, baby greens, spring onions, rhubarb, strawberries come forth! Please! 

But we still have several more weeks of real winter and potential snow storms, so let us give beets and carrots one last opportunity to shine. Dressed simply in olive oil, salt and pepper. Roasted to perfection at 400 degrees for 20 minutes or so. Tossed with a spatula once or twice while cooking, but mostly left alone to get soft and sweet on the inside and crispy and salty on the outside. This technique can be applied to Brussels sprouts, sweet potatoes, butternut or other hardy squash, and turnips. Broccoli is also fabulous roasted like this, just cook for 10-15 minutes as opposed to the 20. 

When you give a toddler a rose...

...she'll be keen to snatch it. 

After snatching it, she will put it directly into her mouth. Naturally. 

After tasting it, she will squeal with delight because chlorophyll tastes gooood. 

Following the official taste test she will continue to nibble on the stem...

...and she'll demostrate her multitasking skills by smiling and noshing. 

Then it is time to make a mess.

Inevitably, when she realizes just how fun this is, she'll want another rose. 

A belated Happy Valentine's Day, all... :) 

Workaday

When I was a teacher, cold, dark 5am seemed like such a noble time. Leaving my warm bed, putting on semi casual business attire, driving the bleak streets of the inner city in the navy blue dawn--all of these things were justified by my work, my cause. It was good work and very hard. Perhaps the hardest job I will ever have in my life. Aside from the teaching bit (lesson plans, grading), there were the children of Bridgeport. Children who had a tremendously uphill climb to a brighter academic future. On many days I felt like I was playing the parts of social worker and special education teacher in addition to fifth grade math teacher. It was an occasionally brutal but always very satisfying job. I worked alongside some of the most dedicated people I have ever met and the big picture was crystal clear: Education = Freedom. 

Sweeping reform. Grand goals. Obtained through measurable, attainable actions steps. Those are buzz words from my former life. Sweeping reform and actions steps are not as easy to define when one is at home surrounded by alphabet blocks and blankies. "Eleanor--what is our goal for today? How are we going to get there? Charles--what are your thoughts? How does this day fit into the overall picture?" (Cue quizzical silence from both parties). "No one?" So the collegial synergy is a little lacking...

...

I miss that shoulder-to-the-wheel feeling of going to work every day. Amongst my collegeagues the obvious yet unstated sentiment was that while teaching can drain the life out of a person, it is good, necessary work that the world admires. As I learn to stay home with my children, I am learning how to translate that sense of importance and necessity to my role as a mom/wife/homemaker. Right now, for me, for my kids, this is the most essential job. Keeping up with the laundry, intentionally putting aside the laundry in order to read with Eleanor, baking bread, Craigslisting unneeded housestuffs, meal planning, rocking Charles, Googling "turnip recipes" in an effort to completely use our garden share... These small things, seen by no one but us three and the dog during the day, are good and necessary and worthy of my time because it is what I am presently called to do. 

the task

Now before I get caught rambling (too late, you say?), I want to point out the act of surrendering as the key ingredient to my embracing this time at home with little people. God has this way of calling us into roles at one point or another in our lives that don't seem to fit. "This isn't me, " we think, "I would be much more comfortable/equipped/satisfied if I did this other thing." His response is always to ask us to surrender and enter fully in to what He has laid before us. I am learning this daily. I am also learning that the reward for such surrender is complete contentment. Never before have I been so happily present-minded. Never before has accomplishing the small tasks been so important to me. I do have days of missing what was, but I am careful to remember that my joy will be sapped if I keeping on missing instead of moving forward. And, oh the joy. Simple and profound. Joy that manifests itself simultaneously as a lump in my throat and a compulsion to laugh out loud as I watch my babies grow, learn, eat and sleep. Especially sleep, for they are so, so sweet when they sleep. 

the calling

 

 

 

Scenes from our kitchen: Tomato Sauce

As I was working on a post about working I became very tired and decided that a picture of canned tomatoes and brief recipe would be just the thing for a Thursday night. 

I discovered the revelation that is homemade tomato sauce about five years ago. Every jar on the supermarket shelf was too sweet and my increasingly savory palate wanted something that tasted more like bright tomatoes and less like ketchup. I've tried many recipes over the years and decided that I like this basic one the very best. Often I start with this recipe and add a little of this and that to make it just right for whatever I am serving it with. 

2, 28 ounce cans of crushed tomatoes- my favorite brands are Muir Glen, Cento, San Marzano and Scalfani. 

2-3 small onions, finely diced

1/4 cup of olive oil

Large dash of kosher salt

(50% of the time I add 1-2 crushed garlic cloves, it depends on how I'm feeling. Since birthing two children my affinity for garlic has dwindled. Not sure what that's all about...)

Directions:

Saute onions and garlic in olive oil over medium heat until soft and translucent. Add crushed tomatoes and salt. Stir, of course, and let it simmer for 20 minutes. 

This is a flexbile recipe and is never the same twice. I have been known to add the following:

Fennel seeds (with the onions and garlic)

Thyme (" ")

Bay leaf (while sauce simmers)

A squeeze of honey  (If I decide I want a touch of sweetness to balance out the acidity, I add honey when I add the tomatoes)

A glug of red wine (I add this with the tomatoes as well and let the sauce cook for an hour as opposed to 20 minutes)

A generous pat of butter (at the very end to "finish" the sauce...not traditional, but definitely yummy)

Fresh basil (at the end as well)

 

 

 

Honestly...

...no one wants to read about finances. Money. Blah. Who talks about it, let alone devotes time to writing about it? But if we are going to be honest--let me rephrase that--if I am going to be honest here--I need to share a little bit about where I am right now. Even if "right now" lacks poetry...which it does. 

The fact of the matter is this: Shawn and I are learning the hard lesson of having to live on a lot less than we have ever had to. Simultaneous to this change is that we were unexpectedly blessed to become parents of two children in a very short period of time. To be clear, we were never resentful of God's timing in providing us with Eleanor and Charles, but as with many things we might have done it a bit differently. Waited a little longer. Saved a little more. Shawn owns that he would have liked to finish graduate school before becoming a dad. I would have liked to start graduate school. 

But...

James 4:13-15 says:

Come now, you who say, “Today or tomorrow we will go into such and such a town and spend a year there and trade and make a profit”— yet you do not know what tomorrow will bring. What is your life? For you are a mist that appears for a little time and then vanishes. Instead you ought to say, “If the Lord wills, we will live and do this or that.” 

And...

Jeremiah 29:11 says:

For I know the plans I have for you, declares the Lord, plans for welfare and not for evil, to give you a future and a hope.

So...

Despite having days of seeming despair, I am continually reminded that His ways are higher, better and ultimately more fulfilling than mine will ever be. And blessings are continually before me: our health, our family, our children, our friends. 

In an effort to stay in this grateful, surrendered space I've decided to share some of the emotional and practical implications of this life change in hopes that it might also be helpful for someone out there. When we first knuckled down to trim our budget, I did lots of Google searching: "How to live on $X per month" and "How much does that average family spend, save, etc. per month". What I really wanted to pop up was a first hand, personal account of how a real family had gone through a financial squeeze. In the coming weeks, I'll share the facts of our situation and the things that I am learning along the way. I'll still write about other stuff, but for the sake of differentiation this story will be chronicled as Project Less is More. My hope is that a project, which at its outset might seem a bummer, will capture a time in our lives where God met us in the midst of our difficulty and grew us up in Him and showed us that He is the "more" that we both need and desire.